“And then,” Theodosia continued, “he offered me employment as a companion for his sister. InLondon.”
Mrs. Worthing leaned forward, her eyes alight. “What did you say?”
“I told him I would think on it,” Theodosia admitted, cutting into her meat.
“You must go,” Mrs. Worthing said at once.
Theodosia winced. “I don’t think that would be wise. I fully intend to turn him down.”
“You mustn’t,” Mrs. Worthing pressed, her voice urgent. “Do you not realize what an opportunity this is? You could travel to London and mingle with theton!”
“Thetonwouldn’t accept me,” Theodosia said. “I’m only the daughter of a baronet.”
Mrs. Worthing gave her a knowing look. “My dear girl, you will belong wherever you choose to stand.”
Theodosia stared down at her plate, idly pushing a bit of meat to the edge with her fork. “It would be a terrible idea,” she said. “I can hardly stand Lord Wilton.”
“You wouldn’t be working for him,” Mrs. Worthing responded. “You’d be a companion to his sister. There’s a world of difference.”
“She’s right,” Penelope added. “And just think, if you marry some fabulously wealthy and handsome lord, you could host me during the next Season.”
Theodosia huffed. “I am not going to marry a lord. Don’t be absurd.”
“It’s not absurd,” Penelope said, eyes twinkling. “It’s wishful thinking. And I am excellent at it.”
Mr. Worthing cleared his throat and folded his napkin withdeliberate care. “As much as I hate to agree with my wife and daughter on anything, I must say they’re right. Your mother would have leapt at such a chance for you.”
At the mention of her mother, Theodosia’s mirth faded. Her fingers stilled around her fork. “I doubt that.”
“No,” Mrs. Worthing said, “it’s true. She used to speak so fondly of her Seasons in London. Of the lights, the music, the people. She said it made the world feel larger and her place in it more exciting.”
Theodosia lifted her gaze. “Yes, but I wouldn’t be debuting. I wouldn’t even be there as a guest. I’d be working. As a companion.”
“And companions are often invited to attend events with their charges,” Mrs. Worthing countered with a knowing smile. “You’d still see the ballrooms, the fine gowns, and the glittering chandeliers. You may not be at the center of attention, but you would be close enough to touch it.”
Penelope leaned in, her excitement palpable. “And Vauxhall Gardens! Do you know they set off fireworks there? Fireworks! That’s practically magic. Imagine standing beneath them in a gown of silk, the stars above and music playing…”
“You’ve been reading too many romantic novels,” Theodosia said with a half-smile, though her heart tugged at the image.
“And you haven’t read enough,” Penelope shot back.
Theodosia reached for her glass and took a slow sip. “But what about the estate? What if something goes wrong while I’m away?”
“Mr. Thornton has managed things before. He’s perfectly capable,” Mr. Worthing assured her. “And if anything urgent arises, I’m happy to lend a hand in your absence.”
“You’re very kind, but—” Theodosia began.
Mr. Worthing gently cut her off. “What is truly stopping you, Dosia? Is it the estate? Or is it something else?”
The room quieted. Penelope’s teasing expression softened, and Mrs. Worthing gave her a look of quiet encouragement.
Theodosia’s fingers tightened around the stem of her glass. She didn’t answer at first. Because she didn’t know. Not exactly.
Was it fear?
Perhaps.
She had never left the village. Never gone farther than the neighboring town for the market or the occasional fair. Her world had always been contained within tidy hedgerows, quiet lanes, and familiar faces.
